


one shots

by bclark



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-04-25 08:42:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4953781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bclark/pseuds/bclark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One Direction and Larry Stylinson one shots all written by me x.</p><p>[©bclark]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. forgotten

Athazagoraphobia. It's the fear of forgetting, being forgotten or ignored; or neglected. A certain man has this fear. A certain 20 year old man who is all alone because he lost his best friend. He watches from afar. From afar he sees him with a girl. He sees the man he loves with a girl. He is laughing with the girl, kissing on the girl, and hugging this girl. The man despises the girl who his boyfriend is loving on. He still loves the other man with the rolled up jeans and buttoned up shirt.

Never will he stop loving him no matter who gets in the way. Not even a beautiful girl could get between them, right? Their love is too strong and can never be broken, correct? Or so the man thought. As he observes the lovers from a distance that night, he was starting to doubt that the other man even loved him; or ever loved him. But that couldn't be right. The man used to love him more than anyone else in the world- with the exception of his mum, of course. Years before, the two would go out for smoothies and hold hands when in private. They'd wear silly disguises and run around different cities. Crazy were the boys who once snuck into bars and would kiss in the corner while dancing to the music in absolute joy.

So joyful they were then, glad to be in each other's company. More than glad. Being with each other meant almost everything to the two boys. The boy with the curls would pull the other close to him at night and press a tender kiss to his head. That was his favorite part- the night, when they could be together without everyone telling them they can't. Everyone minus the three other boys in the boy band. All three of them loved the fact that when the two are together, they are so happy. They were the first to realize that the boy with the emerald eyes was being replaced. Replaced he was by the gorgeous girl with the brunette locks. Once again he watched the girl with the long, curly hair that cascaded down her shoulders.

She giggled at something the man with the messy hair whispered in her ear. In jealously the other man turned away from them and looked at the dancing people at the party they were attending. The club was dim lit and lights flashed around their heads. He has had a few drinks, only enough to make him a little tipsy. He didn't like drinking, unlike his love. The man wanted to tell himself that his boyfriend was only doing this because he was drunk, but this has been going on for weeks now. Just somebody that he used to know is what he felt like he was to the other. Maybe he found someone better than him, and that someone happens to be this girl. Now, it's almost as if he has been forgotten by his lover. This feeling, he hated.

He wished that his man would leave the girl, wrap his arms around his body, and remind him that he'll never leave him. As he glanced at the couple, however, he was almost certain that it would never happen- not anytime soon, anyway. From his forehead, he swiped the sweat away and stood out of his seat. The building was warm from the body heat and drinking of the alcohol. Into the crowd the man walked, beginning to dance with the random strangers. He dances around, the bodies of the many girls dancing so close to him, grinding their hips against his. He missed when he danced with his boyfriend. The dancing with him was so innocent and nice. The younger one would enclose the older one in his arms and sway from side to side, their noses rubbing against each other's. During the faster songs they would jump around, singing the words to each other with goofy smiles on their faces.

But of course that was when the two were younger. That was before the girl came into the picture and took away the man the curly haired one loved most. The other man didn't want to be with the girl at first. He was being forced to love her to hide the fact that he was actually in love with his bandmate. What his bandmate feared was that his love was falling for the girl, and before he'd know it, everything would change and he would be nothing more than a memory. A wonderful memory filled with smiles and numerous kisses, but soon forgotten. They no longer mattered to the man with the blue eyes, but the memories meant so much to the green eyed man. He didn't want to be ignored by him. Again, looking at the pair, he sees that his boyfriend is paying him no attention.

Should he even call the man his boyfriend? This isn't how a boyfriend treats his lover... The curly haired man decides to do something- something in vain to make the other man jealous and to notice him. He dances over to an area near the petite man and pulls in a random girl, kissing her sloppily and emotionless. The girl he was kissing was too drunk to give a care. When he pulled away, he expected so much from the other boy. He expected him to gape at the curly haired fellow with wide eyes and pull him away from the random girl. Or for him to get mad and storm out of the club, stomping his feet and tugging at his hair. Instead, it was the opposite. The man didn't even acknowledge that his lover was kissing on some girl right in front of his eyes. All he paid his attention to was the woman in his arms who flirted with him, batting her eyelashes.

The random girl tugged at the tattooed man's arm and begged for more kisses. The man declined, regretting ever doing it in the first place. Kisses from his one and only was all he wanted. Away he ran, right out of the club and onto the busy sidewalks where the paparazzi swarmed him for pictures. At the ground he stared, blocking out their voices and listening to the cars passing by. He wanted nothing more than to run away and never return. He wanted to forget like his Boo Bear did. At the same time, he never wanted to. Forgetting would make everything much more simple, though. Forgetting their silly fights and arguments would allow him to move on.

Forgetting the times they made love would make it easier to sleep at night. But he couldn't forget. He refused to. That man was the best thing that has ever happened to him. He called a taxi, got inside, and made his way to the flat him and his boyfriend secretly lived in with each other. At night, his lover always came late, never to cuddle or kiss him goodnight. He's lie down next to him and fall asleep, completely ignoring his Hazza that he had once loved so much. This thought haunted the curly haired one, that maybe he has been replaced.

He was ignored, forgotten, and neglected. All of a sudden, Athazagoraphobia became so much more than a phobia. It was now a reality for the lonely man. Now all he could hope for is that he'd never forget like his lover did. He didn't want to forget all of the beautiful plans they had made together about having children and getting married. He didn't want to forget all of the endless nights they spent talking or the times they'd sneak out to play football. Could he forget even if he tried? No. Never. The times he spent with his man were the best days of his life.

He gave him happiness no one else has ever given him or ever will give him. Forgetting him would be difficult and nearly impossible for the younger man. The taxi pulled up to his home. Out hopped the man, handing the taxi driver money and thanking him quietly. Dragging his feet to his front door, he kicked at sticks and pine cones. Holding back tears became hard for him.

"Is it too much to ask for something great?" he asked himself, quoting his own song.

The tears slipped from his eyes, running down his cheeks. He entered his home, uncontrollably sobbing at the fact that he had lost his lover.

"How could have he forgotten?" whispered the man. "How could have he forgotten about me and all we had? Am I not enough?"

He racked his brain for answers, but the answers never came. He felt invisible to his Boo Bear. It was almost as if he no longer existed. Hopelessly he lied in the empty, cold bed, cocooning himself in the blankets and crying himself to sleep. Dreams about his boyfriend was all he had that night. Little did he know that his boyfriend did remember. Little did he know that his lover had a ring that he planned on giving to the man. Little did he know that his Boo Bear had a long letter in his pocket explaining that he was sorry that he was ignoring him those past weeks and that he still loved him like crazy; and that all that was going on with the girl was because management was forcing him to. Little did he know that as he fell asleep, his boyfriend was on his way home- on his way to love on his beautiful cuddle buddy. Little did he know that as he was on his way home, he got in a car crash...

The man knew very little that gloomy night. He lost his one and only that night. The 20 year old man that lied in his bed all alone may never know that he was never forgotten, but he will never forget.


	2. that moment

Moments. There are many moments that make up what we call life. Happy moments. Sad moments. Moments that make us proud. Moments that make us cry- whether they're tears of joy or sorrow. These many moments in time are knitted together creating our beautiful lives. When two lives collide and result in love, more moments are made, shared, and celebrated. Like two boys for example, living in England as children. Two separate lives started and two later became one.

No one knew their true story. The world believed one thing, but they know what really happened- the veracity of how they met and how they fell in love. Their story is enchanting, innocent, and engaging in every aspect. It's rare, the innocence of their love. But it was just that. At first what was an unimpeachable puppy love turned into a passionate, momentous, love once they grew older. Their lives were like cars on highways. Two highways, side by side, separated by a wall, and the cars traveling in different directions. The inevitable happened, however. Paths crossed, the cars crashed, and everything changed all at once.

Nothing could prevent the crash from happening. There was no turning back. Not that they didn't want to meet. Them meeting was what made driving down that highway worth it. There were days before they met when the younger boy wanted to hit the brakes and stop driving on. He wasn't happy. He was depressed, I guess you could say. Not always. Happiness, he once had. Harry Edward Styles lived an average childhood with plenty of friends in elementary school.

He was constantly entertaining everyone around him with his outgoing personality and energetic self. It was hard not to like Harry Styles. Popular, kind, and handsome, was he. What was not to like? That was until he got to middle school. He revealed to his friends, family, and school mates that he was bisexual. All of a sudden, many of the students at his school disliked him. And why? Because he liked boys. He didn't understand.

He didn't understand why he wasn't quite as popular as he once was. He didn't understand why his parents and sister were no longer treating him the same. Neither did he understand why he was losing some of friends. Why did it matter if he was gay? He was the same person- gorgeous, sweet, and lovable. Nonetheless, he began thinking of himself as a burden. He cried every night and even started self harming. His whole life was changing for the worse. Meanwhile, there was Louis William Tomlinson. Just like Harry, the blue eyed boy lived a fantastic childhood.

With four little sisters, he found himself living as a role model. Consistently, he stayed positive, always having a smile on his delightful face and making people around him feel joy. Even through his parents divorce, although he felt grief inside, he sent smiles every which way and only had good vibes. That is the type of person the boy was. So while Louis was living this great and joyous life of his, Harry was falling into deep pit of depression that he was struggling to escape from. The only times he found himself able to escape from the pain was when he performed with his band, White Eskimo. He sang. When he sang, he found happiness. The world disappeared. It was only him and the band.

Two hours away, Louis also sang with his band, The Rogue, practicing in a cluttered garage. They sang in sync, in oblivion of this of course. Both of the flawless boys closed their eyes and raised their heads up, softly singing the words of a romantic classic rock song. You see, these two were not star crossed lovers. They were meant to be together. It was truly destined. The time of their first meet was out of this world. The two of them decided to enter a Battle of the Bands... Little did they know that they entered the same one. It wasn't love at first sight.

Nope. Their first sight of each other was only a glance. The blue eyed boy saw Harry in a buttoned up polo shirt and Louis had his hair spiked up. He thought he looked cool... Harry thought so, too. They didn't think anything of one another. It wasn't until later that day when the sparks flew. While all of their fans later thought they met in a different bathroom, they actually met in the bathroom of the Battle of the Bands. It was their little secret like a lot of things.

Louis entered the bathroom, then doing his business, when suddenly a younger boy walks in. Louis didn't look over at the door. He only resumed what he was doing. All of a sudden, the other boy walked to the urinal next to Louis. Of course he thought this was odd. A whole row of urinals were available, but yet the curly haired boy chose the one next to him. Still he didn't even glance at the other boy. Louis finished and walked over to the sink, beginning to wash his hands. The green eyed boy snuck glances at Louis.

He admired his tan skin and thin pink lips. He thought he was already in love with his small, thin face and skinny, almost feminine fingers that were much smaller than his. Quickly, the younger boy finished as well, walking to the sink right next to the boy with the spiky hair. He just wanted to be close to the older one. He didn't know him, but he wanted to. Slightly scared, Louis shut off the water, still not even looking at the other. He wasn't sure what to think about this boy following him. What if he was a stalker? Or a rapist? Or an axe murderer?

Or a pedophile even... He refused to even glance at him so he wasn't for certain about how old he was. Turning away, he got a paper towel. The guy behind him shut off the water and came towards him. Around he turned to throw away the towel, only to bump into the curly haired kid. Both of them raised their heads, staring at one another with wide eyes.

"Oops," Louis chuckled, staring at the prepossessing boy in awe.

Adorable, he was with his longer hair and plump lips. To the elder guy, the boy looked 14 or 15 years old, only a couple years younger than him. The thing was, he was about the same height as him- maybe a bit taller. Although, this wasn't too strange. Louis was pretty petite and short for his age. Harry almost couldn't say a word. Until-

"Hi," he said with a big cheeky smile and a very unmanly giggle.

In fondness, he grinned at Harry.

That was a moment.

Louis wasn't attracted to him- not like Harry was attracted to Louis. He thought of Harry as someone who would be like a little brother to him. He walked around the boy in the polo shirt, strolling over to the trash can. He threw away the towel, pivoting back to Harry who was drying his own hands.

"Are you competing?" Harry asked in a cheery voice.

It was odd, the way his voice was so deep, but the older boy's voice was higher. Shockingly, their voices somehow matched their faces. The older boy was mesmerized by the voice of who looked like a child to him.

"Yes. Are you?" Louis replied shyly, looking at the ground.

"Yep. I'm the lead singer."

In interest, he popped up his head.

"So am I."

"Awesome!" the taller boy said throwing away his own paper towel.

Louis left the bathroom with the other boy trailing behind him like a little duckling following its mother duck.

"Can I hear you sing?" Harry asked energetically.

"You can when I perform," Louis laughed, amused by the hyper boy nearly hooping by his side.

"But I want you to sing for me."

"And I will," he spoke, facing the flirty kid and coming to a stop. "Know that up there on that stage, I'll be singing my song dedicated to the weird kid with the ridiculously curly hair."

Harry laughed and said, "Or Harry Styles."

He leaned closer to Louis and whispered, "That's me."

Shaking his head, the blue eyed boy snickered and said. "And I'm Louis. Louis Tomlinson."

That was a moment.

Until they were forced to part, Louis and Harry talked and talked. They laughed over goofy things and even made up nicknames for each other. They made a promise to find one another after the competition so that they could get each other's numbers. But they couldn't find each other. Louis felt like crying in frustration. Harry did. A boy that might actually like him back... gone. Not for long, however. Remember what I said about the highways and the cars? Well, these two cars took two different exits and went their separate ways. A year later, however, the two cars crashed again.

Only this time when they collided, there was no way they would be parted again. The boys both auditioned for The X Factor. A successful mission, it was. Both made it. Without knowledge of each other being at boot camp, they found one another. They were both standing around after getting the heart breaking news that they were not going on in the competition. Suddenly a man called both Louis and Harry on stage. They saw each other and stared in shock, but held in their excitement since they were on camera. Onto the stage they walked with the three other boys. The exhilaration was running rapidly through their veins.

Not only was there the overwhelming news of becoming a group, but also Louis and Harry were reunited. The judges announced that they were now a group and they leaped into one another's arms immediately.

That was a moment.

They tried not to cry in happiness, but failed in the end- especially Harry. That night they ran off together, spending time alone at a random restaurant, catching up and acting like best friends. That's exactly what they turned into. Best friends. Soon the friendship grew into something more. Louis didn't see it coming, but it's all Harry's wanted from the start. He liked Louis a lot. Years had passed since the start of the band. His love for the older man only blossomed more and more. Unexpectedly, Louis began feeling this way about Harry as well.

Their love for one another was real. No longer was it a silly puppy love. More years passed and their love grew stronger- especially with their management always telling them to hide it. They were forced to hide it away from everyone. So, they did. They were even forced to have girlfriends. That didn't stop them at all. Their love continued and it did until the band broke up. That's when they uncovered their secret to the world.

That was a moment.

Not only did their love for each other grow, but so did they. Together they grew old and never stopped loving the other. Harry never got stuck in his bottomless pit of depression again. How could he if he had Louis? Louis was the reason Harry didn't hit the brakes and end his life. Imagine all of the beauteous moments he would have missed out on if he did?


	3. i'll be home for christmas

Dear Harry,

I'm not sure if you'll have much time to sit and read these emails, but I thought I'd send them regardless. It's Christmas Adam here. (Get it? Adam came before Eve. December 23rd. I thought it was clever. I thought you'd find it funny, too. You are the master at stupid jokes.) You will not believe how much cleaning I've gotten done for the holidays. Seriously. You will not believe it. I actually dug out supplies and swept. I, Louis Tomlinson, swept the very floor in which we walk. Crazy, right? Unbelievable, right? But... it actually happened. I want to make the house nice for when our families come over. It's been awhile since you've been to the place, hasn't it? I miss you living here, honestly. We used to wake up and make tea. Maybe we'd have a casual cuddle here and there. Remember when we first moved in? We busted out our light sabers instead of unpacking. We ended up breaking two lamps... We're insane mofos. I miss waking up to your ridiculous curls and your raspy morning voice (which is the sexiest thing ever). I miss you in general. When I heard you and your family are coming here for Christmas, I was overjoyed. I am excited to see your family of course, but you... You're what I've been waiting patiently to see. Nothing bought with money will make me happy this Christmas. You are the best present I could possibly receive this year or any year and you cannot be bought... Obviously. That would make you a slave. You're a slave for one person only. Me.  
Love,  
Louis ♥

Dear Louis,  
Your email was cute. I actually have a lot of time to read your emails if you choose to send more. My flights keep getting postponed because of this damn storm. I might have to take a few trains and buses if I want to make it in time. It's Christmas Adam here, too. We aren't that far away from each other. I think the time zones are only off by two hours. The Christmas Adam joke was clever, love. Did you make it up? Just like I'm wondering if you're making up cleaning or not. I don't know if I can believe that. You? Cleaning? Does me coming over really mean that much to you? It probably doesn't mean that much to you as it does to me. I guess you have an idea as to how much I miss living with you, however. When I get there with my family, I will drag you away and kiss you under the mistletoe (if you have any hung) the deepest I have ever kissed you. Then, we'll spend that day with our families, opening presents and drinking hot chocolate. That night when everyone is sleeping in your guest house, we'll be cuddling in your bed (that was once ours), swaddled in the warmest blankets you own. And since your Mum probably gave you a new mattress (as she does every year), we'll have to break it in, correct? Remember what you said, my sexy boyfriend, I'm only a slave for you. *wink*  
Love,  
Harry xx

Dear Hazza,  
I attached a picture to this email of my sparkling clean house since you don't believe me still. The answer is yes, by the way. You coming here means the world to me. I wish you'd move in again. Fuck management. They can't tell us what to do. I mean, it might be in the contract that they can tell us what to do, but what are they going to do to stop you from moving in with me? Bomb the place? They would be the ones to go to that extreme... But even if you can't move in permanently, you are welcome to stay for a week or two for the holidays or come over when we have free days. I'm desperate to spend as much time as I can with you... like the old days. The good old days. It's unfortunate that you aren't here for my birthday, but it's no big deal. My family showed up a day early. (Mum brought me a mattress. *wink*) Spending time with them is nice, but it doesn't compare to the time I hope to spend with you on Christmas. Too bad it has to storm. You would have been here by now. All of you- your Mum, step dad, Gemma. The plans you made for Christmas are perfect. Spending time with our families, kissing, and cuddling. Breaking in my mattress is the perfect way to top it all off. I'll make Christmas perfect for you, too. I have presents under the tree. The mistletoe is hung. It's even a white Christmas (although you're probably sick of snow). The long trip your taking to get here will be worth it. I promise you that.  
Love,  
Boo Bear

Dear Peter Pan,  
Oh, you silly goose. No attempt at you making this the "perfect Christmas" with materialistic things will work. None of those things will make me truly happy. You see, Christmas isn't about those things. It's not only about celebrating the birth of Jesus either (although it's meant to be). It's also about spending time with the people you love most. You could give me every present under that tree, but none of it would make me truly happy. The only thing that will make my Christmas perfect is you. I know you understand. You said so yourself about me in your first email. I appreciate the presents and the mistletoe (that I hope to be kissed under by you), but only you will make this trip worth it. I'm sorry I can't be there for your birthday, babe. I feel terrible. I'll make sure to call you tonight if I get good service. Maybe then we could discuss me moving in once more. Who says management has to know? Living with you again would make me 100x happier. It'd complete me, seeing your beautiful face everyday and kissing those soft lips every time I have the chance to. I'd feel at home because (as cliché as it sounds) you are my home. Where you are is home. I'll be home for Christmas, my love. You can count on me. Even if this storm continues and all the flights get postponed, I'll find a way to get to you.  
Love,  
Tarzan  
P.S. Wow. You really did clean the house! #impressed

Dear my green eyed love,  
I don't want you to rush, my sweet boy. It's dangerous out there in that storm. I'd rather you just get here safe and unharmed. It's only morning. You have all day to get here. I'll be so excited when you get here, baby. I want to kiss you under that mistletoe and build a snowman (before crashing it down with our light sabers). I want to hear your voice. I was disappointed last night when you never called, but I'm sure you tried your best. That storm is treacherous. I've been watching the weather a lot. I only left the house once to buy stuffing. (Yes. I'm cooking dinner.) The only other time I'll willingly go outside in that storm is to help you and your family bring your things in... and to build our snowman, but we could wait until tomorrow to do that. You must be getting closer. You've been travelling for a long time. I miss you more and more every moment which make me want to cuddle more and more and makes me want to kiss you more and more and makes breaking in that mattress become more and more of a pleasing thought. Most of all, every long, dragging moment you're not with me, I love you more and more. I love you when you're here and when you're not. I love you so much, Harry Edward Styles. I can't wait until I can hear you say it back before I kiss you under the mistletoe and we make sweet, sweet love. I'm praying that you're home with me for Christmas. It won't be complete without you.  
Love,  
your blue eyes loser who misses you a lot and wants you here more than anything in the entire world

Dear my one and only,  
You should have seen the look on your face when we pulled up in that taxi in the darkness of the Christmas night. You ran outside, your eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. Right behind you was your Mum, only she wasn't running like you were. When I lifted you into my arms and you wrapped your legs around my waist, I felt like we were on top of the world. You helped us put our bags inside, which was very kind of you. Our families greeted each other, but we refused to let go of one another. Nothing new there. Just as we spoke of before, we went off into the other room, kissing deeply below the mistletoe. I'm not sure how many times we kissed underneath the mistletoe. It was too many to count. Seeing your lovely family again was wonderful. My family wouldn't stop talking about how excited they were to see the Tomlinson family again before we showed up. I'm glad our families get along. It would suck very bad if they didn't. Our relationship probably wouldn't work out. That would suck even more. When we all watched Home Alone 2 and you wouldn't stop commenting on the "scary pigeons," I had to hold in my laughter. Sorry, sweetheart, but your fear of pigeons is hilarious. My favorite part of the night was when we disappeared into your room and cuddled beneath the blankets. The feeling of your lips on mine was serene and definitely worth the wait. I hope we broke in the mattress good enough as well. If not, I guess we could have round 2 tomorrow... Now, here we are. You're asleep as I type this slowly on my lab top. I watch as you breathe in and out, probably dreaming about beautiful things as a beautiful person like you would dream. Being here with you is faultless. Just as I said, no present could compare to the happiness I have when I'm with you. Even if I don't move in permanently, remember that you are my home and I told you I'd be home for Christmas.  
Love,  
your one and only ♥  
P.S. I love you more.


	4. extravagant love

Let me tell you a little something about the man I love. Actually, it's not just a little something; I have endless somethings to tell about the man who I will one day soon know longer than I have not.

Some have said they're surprised we've lasted so long, and when they say these unbelievable theories, I can't help but stifle a laugh, cock an eyebrow, and ask them why. It's then when they tell me that we seem too different. Anyone can tell that. Anyone can tell that when he is driving me wild and I am secretly planning his murder. Everyone can tell that when I am ignoring his presence altogether.

Others say that they think we'll last forever, and when they say such endearing words, my heart feels as if it could burst; and it's only because I know it's true. Anyone can tell that. Anyone can tell that when we are practically confessing our love for one another (again) right in front of them like it's nothing strange or new (in which it isn't).

I understand both sides to this. I understand why there are those who have faith in us and those who do not or used to not. The truth of the matter is that only we truly know how it feels to love the way only we do. Only we experience the highest of highs and the lowest of lows in our rollercoaster of a relationship. Only I witnessed the sparkle in his eyes when he said 'I do.'

And only I unfortunately witnessed the stupid Snapchat he sent of his foot after I took ten damn minutes finding and arranging scrabble letters to spell out our full names. The things I do for this man are quite farcical, and what do I get in return?

Foot pictures, cold coffee, and four AM arguing about who would make a better daddy.

This is all fun and games until I accidently spill my coffee mid-argue and stain my new YSL shirt... I didn't mind too much anymore that it was cold.

Situations like these and more are times that get under my skin, but I never question why I stay with him. I stay with him because I love him and he loves me. A love like ours can conquer the world, the entire universe. That is something I have believed in since I met him.

I am not sure of a lot these days, but this I know for certain: It doesn't matter to us who thinks we'll last or not. I know we will.

None of them really realize how hard we fight to make us work, how difficult it can be to love when so many are holding us back. My heart constantly aches for him, yearns for his touch and thoughts and unending devotion. This fighting, and all of the other parts of our lives that make our relationship a challenge, are often misinterpreted as struggles that are bound to break us apart. These struggles, however, make our love stronger more so than it weakens it.

"Your love is extravagant, my baby cakes," Louis whispered early in the night, our legs tangled, his body half on top of mine. His bare skin, tan and smooth, was pressed against mine. I could feel his heart beating slow against my chest. "I swear it."

"That has to be one of the sweetest things you have ever said to me," I said with a cheesy grin. I breathed in deep, taking in his scent, his natural scent- sweet, yet manly. "Talk to me like that more often."

He chuckled and ran his fingertips along my collarbone. "I talk sweet you sometimes."

"Not enough," I complained, wrapping an arm around his shoulders even tighter.

"Why do I need to?" Louis spoke with a whine that amused me more than it should have. "You know I love you. I tell you I do everyday."

"But you don't always say it like that," I retorted. I could feel my face heating up in embarrassment. I've always hated sometimes coming across as being one of those people, the people who tend to find anything to be unhappy about or that they wished was better. "Not that you have to."

"But you'd like me to?"

"It would be nice,"

"I'd be saying sweet things every minute."

"That'd be amazing."

"That'd be annoying."

 

"Well... you already are."

At that, he playfully flicked my shoulder and stuck out his tongue.

I'll forever enjoy teasing him, but never as much as he enjoys teasing me. He knows all the right ways to get under my skin, as I have said. Regardless, I never stop him. Perhaps these attributes that seemingly get on my nerves are the very attributes that cause me to smile as I close my eyes at night.

"Maybe I will," he said before pressing a kiss to my head. My heart fluttered at the contact as it has, does, and always will.

"Yay," I giggled.

"If-"

"Oh great."

"-you rub my back."

I giggled once again. "You're ridiculous."

"Yes, I'm aware."

"But deal."

This is what I call a compromise. This is what I call love. It's the moments like these that make all of the struggling worth it. Although I know I may be blinking back tears all day, I can release them by the end and he will be there to wipe them away.

Tomorrow is our anniversary, my favorite day of the year. Every year on that very day, I am reminded that I'll have hundreds of more moments like those and other moments less sweet and more frustrating; and I'll get to spend them with my favorite person in the entire world.

"Louis William Styles-Tomlinson," I whisper into the ear of the sleeping man next to me, the man I've loved since I was sixteen; the first person I've loved at all. "We may grow old, but our love never will."

He suddenly lets out a long sigh before huffing tiredly. "What are you going on about?"

Indeed. This is the man I love.


	5. unmask me

Louis usually isn't one to freak out over cute boys or seek for their attention. He tends to hide behind his dark glasses frames and admire from afar, never approaching or considering to introduce himself. The only time he breaks out of his shell is when he is on stage, singing songs and acting at his local school theatre. Otherwise, he is in the back of the class, doodling on a piece of paper and ignoring the lesson altogether. It isn't necessarily that he is shy or insecure; if he isn't on stage, he'd just much rather hide.

"Are you ready, Lou?" His mum yelled up at him cheerfully. "It's getting late."

He rushed over to the full body mirror in his bedroom and examined his costume for the tenth time that evening. Like a prince, he appeared- a prince at a masquerade ball. He adjusted his black mask that was bedazzled by the oldest of his younger sisters and tugged down his vest. After one last flip of his silky, brunette hair, he slipped his fancy jacket on. His fingertips ran across the red and white gems sewed onto it until they met with the shiny buttons.

Needless to say, he takes Halloween seriously.

"I'll be right down!"

It isn't the trick or treating that Louis likes. He has found that he has grown too old for that anyways- despite what his friends tell him. The Halloween parties never interest him too much either. He likes a good party, but occasionally it gets too crazy. He would rather have a small hangout with his mates.

He considered as he walked downstairs towards where his family was waiting at the front door that the real reason he adores the holiday so much is because he can become someone else. He finds a sense of confidence when he can secrete his identity and he is no longer the odd drama kid. He can be Danny from Grease or Peter Pan; or perhaps a smooth talking prince. Whoever he is, it's probably better than being Louis Tomlinson. It has to be.

// so tell me again why you chose to go to the pumpkin patch instead of the party of the year?!! //

Louis rolled his eyes at the text he received. He buckled his baby brother into his car seat before answering in annoyance.

// Maybe I want to spend time with my family, Niall. //

// bullshit. now what's the actual reason? //

Louis sighed. // They have hayrides. // He could just hear his friend's loud laughter in his head as he probably did after reading such a ridiculous text.

// lmao ok. i'll talk to you later. have fun on your hayride, dork. (; //

// And you have fun with that hangover tomorrow morning. (; //

// that's how i'll know i had fun. (; //

// Sure, sure. //

Louis slipped his phone back in his pocket, no longer zoning out his siblings' yells and whines and intolerable loud talking in words of enthusiasm. Although he was tempted to pop in his headphones, he didn't. That wouldn't be very prince-like. Sure princes must like music, but probably not Green Day or The Fray. A prince would deal with his annoying little sisters and brother's wailing without any complaint.

Pulling up into the pumpkin patch, his mum and step dad discussed the groups they were splitting into when walking around. They never stayed altogether. It would be too difficult to keep track of everyone. Fortunately, they allowed Louis to roam alone. He knew he would enjoy himself more if he didn't have to watch a child every minute of the night. His mother knew this as well. So when he quickly left from his family and looked at the Halloween themed game booths and several pies for sale, he felt a sense of freedom.

havin fun on that hayride yet?

Louis smirked and stopped in front of the table for face painting. It doesn't start until 7. 10 more minutes!! Louis stuffed his phone in his pocket, about to move onto the next booth. The only people who would get their face painted were children under ten. He would never; it would make him look like even more of an idiot.

But today, he might make an exception.

Sitting at the booth with the tubes of paint in front of him, was quite possibly the cutest boy Louis had ever seen. Chocolate curls lay across his forehead and his childlike, green eyes were set on Louis in anticipation and curiosity. He appeared to be a few years younger than Louis which would have explained why he never saw him at school; he doesn't pay attention to younger classmen (with the anomaly of Niall and Liam).

"Do you want your face painted?" The boy asked with a bright smile spread from ear to ear. HIs voice was warm and sort of husky, a voice anyone would be crazy not to want to hear in conversation.

Louis huffed out a laugh. "I'm considering it."

The boy swept his hair out of his face. Paint of all colors were dry along his long fingers and skinny wrists. He leaned his upper body over the plastic table as he spoke, "Well, I'll be here. As you can see, I am really busy."

Louis snickered and rolled his eyes. "Totally. The kids are lining up to get a pumpkin done on their face by a teenage boy with paint in his hair," he said sarcastically. That was a lie, but it was amusing to him how fast the kid snapped his hand to his hair only to realize there was nothing.

He smirked as he lowered his arm. "I'll have you know I can paint a mean pumpkin."

"I'm sure it's terrifying," giggled Louis, fixing his mask that was slipping off his nose.

The younger boy shifted his attention to a little girl and her mum who were approaching. He greeted the child with a smile he only saved for kids her age. Immediately, he made conversation with her, asking what she was for Halloween although it was clear as day. He made her giggle with the most simple gestures.

Neither Louis or the mum of the little girl could control the fond explosion on their faces. Not only is he cute, but extremely captivating, lovable in every way. Louis took the boy being busy as an opportunity to text his friend.

// NIALL! YOU KNOW WHAT'S BETTER THAN A HAYRIDE? A CUTE BOY WITH A LITTLE KIDS. //

Within seconds there was a response. By then the boy had started to paint a black cat on the girl's chubby cheek. Louis couldn't have found anything more endearing than when he tucked a strand of her blonde hair behind her little ear to better access the soft skin of her face.

// PICTURE. NOW. //

Louis did not hesitate to pull his phone up and switch to the camera. His sneaky actions would have been more smooth if he remembered to turn flash off. The humiliation was almost too much to bear. His cheeks flushed red, eyes watered up, and he longed for nothing more than to shrivel up and die. Everything had been going so well and this one foolish mistake could have ruined everything.

But it didn't.

The boy didn't find it creepy or yell at him to screw off (as Louis had imagined in his head). Instead, he laughed. It wasn't a rude laugh or a sarcastic laugh, but rather a soft, doting one. Louis felt a bit silly, but not as embarrassed after the boy's cool response. He was praying he wouldn't say anything of it after the woman and her daughter left, but his hopes went down the drain. What really was he expecting, though? This was something nobody could simply ignore or move on from that quickly.

"So," he began with a smirk, setting down his paint brush and then resting his chin in the palm of his hand. "Why a picture? Think I'm cute?"

"Cocky much?" Louis teased, rolling his eyes. His lips seemed to be permanently molded into a smile.

In instant defense of his character, the boy shook his head. "No. At least, I don't think I am. Surely you wouldn't take a picture of someone you found unattractive, though."

"Maybe it wasn't of you," Louis shot back without thinking.

He cocked his head to the side curiously. "Oh?"

"Yeah," Louis smugly said. "Maybe it was of the little girl."

"Then I'd think you're a total weirdo."

"Fair enough," admitted Louis with a breathy chuckle. "It was of you." He peaked down at the picture with a tiny, pleased grin before locking his phone. "And I'm quite happy with it."

"Is that so?" He asked, the raise of his eyebrows and the purse of his lips driving Louis up a wall.

A simple shrug of his shoulders and a shy smile was all Louis could manage to do in the midst of all of his nervousness. The curly haired boy didn't seem to mind at all of his sudden uneasiness. He wouldn't have cared if Louis said anything at all. He loved his sweet smile and bright eyes and his simple presence, his aura. Not at all did the younger lad hide his immediate strong feelings towards the boy who approached him with such confidence, yet vulnerability that he found extremely appealing. Everyone could see it. Everyone knew.

The boy pulled out the chair next to him and nodded down at it. "How about that pumpkin?"

He didn't have to ask Louis twice. "Can't say no to your mean pumpkin," he teased, walking around the long white table to join him in his own metal lawn chair. He slipped his phone in his picket while doing so, almost forgetting completely about the text exchange with his friend. He could forget, however, that they had just been talking of the cute boy at the pumpkin patch, but now he was actually talking to him. In fact, he was about to paint Louis' face. It still sounded like such a childish thing to do in Louis' perspective.

"I feel stupid," he pouted as soon as Curly touched the paint brush to his face, the cold paint tingling on his skin. "Say, why are you here on Halloween painting faces anyways, um... I'm sorry. I'm afraid I haven't caught your name."

Out of the corner of his eye, Louis could see a smile gradually growing on the lad's face, dimples caving in his cheeks. "It's Harry," he said in a way that sent a chill down Louis' spine. It was funny how a name, especially that one could affect him that much; perhaps just because it was his. "And I'm here because I volunteered to. I love kids and Halloween so why not?"

"Why aren't you dressed up then?"

"Mum said I was too old to dress up."

Louis furrowed his eyebrows in frustration. "You're never too old to dress up."

"Just like you're never too old to get a pumpkin painted on your face."

"Touché."

Harry giggled. He picked up another brush and began again. Louis caught another glimpse of his bright green eyes before he did. He could've sworn he saw heaven within them. He could've sworn he felt heaven within the soft touches of his fingers and heard it when he laughed at his own dumb Halloween puns as if they were the funniest on Earth. It was a dorky laugh, and at the same time, ridiculously angelic, gorgeous.

About ninety percent sure was Louis, that Harry was taking longer than necessary to paint the mean pumpkin just so he wouldn't leave him anytime soon. He supposed that what Harry didn't realize is that even when he was finished painting, Louis wasn't going anywhere. He was quite content right there next to him in the middle of the festival, hay beneath their feet and a bonfire smell in the air.

"So do you go to Doncaster high school?" Louis asked as Harry was washing the brushes off. "I can't say I've seen you."

Harry shook his head immediately. "I'm homeschooled," he answered with a crooked grin. "I just moved from Cheshire."

"Why did you move, if you don't mind me asking?" Louis asked in genuine interest. He leaned over and had his eyes locked on Harry's lips. He hung onto his every word. Not one word that came from his mouth was unimportant to him. It was as if every word Harry spoke had some sort of hidden meaning behind them. That is how Louis saw it, that is.

Taking in a deep breath, Harry set down the brushes on the nearby wash cloth and turned to Louis. "My mum saw a business opportunity here and took it. She is the owner of that bakery in town," he said proudly. This pride was soon washed away, though, an uneasy expression replacing it.

Louis pivoted his body so that he was facing him more, to show him he was truly agog, invested in the conversation. "What's wrong? You look upset."

Bitterly, Harry let out a chuckle, his eyes focused on his bracelets that he played with by twisting and pulling at them. "I just lied right to your face. We were having such a nice little conversation and I lied to you like the idiot I am."

"So your mum doesn't own the bakery?" Louis said with a quiet snicker he tried his best to contain. "I don't care about that."

He shook his head, eyes still turned away from him. "No. That's true. My mum is an incredible baker."

Giggling in amusement, Louis placed a hand delicately on his shoulder. "Then what's upsetting you, silly?"

Harry glanced at his hand on his shoulder and then into his round, narrowed eyes. "The main reason we moved is because I was getting bullied... and I feel pathetic."

"Why?" Louis asked in disbelief, shaking his head and rubbing his shoulder. "Don't feel that way. You shouldn't feel that way."

"Well there had to have been a reason they didn't like me," he breathed out in agitation. "They hated me and all that I was. I don't blame them, really. I didn't belong there."

Louis shoved his shoulder playfully. "Oh, shut up. You're the coolest person I've met in this town."

With a click of his tongue and a roll of his eyes, Harry huffed out, "You've only just met me and-"

"And I already know," interrupted Louis, sliding his hand down to one of the younger boy's hands. He didn't hold it, but rather rested his on top of it. "You're here on Halloween night painting faces rather than going to a haunted house or a lame party. That's pretty damn cool to me."

Using his free hand, he pulled his red and black flannel shirt tighter around himself. "I don't know many people even if I wanted to go to a party," he shrugged, forcing a small smile. "Why aren't you at a party?"

"Like I said," mumbled Louis, "they're lame."

"But why here of all places?"

In slight embarrassment, Louis blushed and sighed exasperatedly. "For the hayride."

Harry giggled. "That's cute." Much to Louis surprise and pleasure, Harry slipped his long fingers between his as he said in a hushed voice, "We should go together."

"Don't you have to run this?" Louis asked, gesturing at the table... with no kids waiting for their turn on the other side of it.

Harry snorted. "Because I'm so busy here," he sarcastically remarked. "I'm tired. I've been working all day... I could use a little hayride break with this handsome prince sitting next to me."

A blush spread along the apples of Louis' cheeks. "And I'd like to have someone to ride with, especially with this cheeky weirdo who paints on kids' faces for fun."

Harry nudged the older boy playfully, a wry grin dancing among his face. "Shut up," he poked fun at him. "I still don't know your name, Mr. Prince."

That is when Louis realized something important, something shocking. Halloween had always been his favorite because for one day he could dress up and be whoever he chose. He didn't have to be the graceless boy that sat in the back of the class nor the troublemaker who snuck off with his mate Zayn during Chemistry to have a smoke. Today, he was a prince. He could be charming and wouldn't have to worry about stumbling over his words or occasional clumsy feet.

However, he forgot about this when he began talking to Harry. He felt out of character when he saw the boy's cute dimples, failing to recall the day it was entirely. He turned right back into his bashful self, yet had this newfound confidence. He talked to Harry like he knew him for years, so comfortable with him already that he could hold his hand. It took weeks for Louis be himself around his best friends, but only about two minutes with the face painter at the pumpkin patch; the first boy to ever make Louis feel butterflies.

Harry brought out a side of him he didn't know existed. He didn't have to be anyone but himself with Harry. He likes who Harry is and Harry likes him. He likes him.

With this in mind, Louis released the boy's hand from his and pulled the mask from his own face. Harry's smile only grew wider.

He really likes him.

"I'm Louis."


	6. let's start right now

Disneyland. It's one of the most magical places on Earth for all ages, races, and genders. Going to the park means forgetting about the world for awhile. It means getting mesmerized by the shiny lights and vibrant attitudes and impossible dreams; impossible dreams like falling in love.

That is the way Louis saw it. He had never fallen in love nor was he going to. It was a belief he decided to stick by for as long as he lived and a belief that his family strongly disagreed with. He has had crushes and thinks boys are cute and doesn't mind getting off with one every once in awhile, but love was never in the equation.

He entered the park with this belief along with several other beliefs floating around in his unimaginative, bland mind. There is no such thing as magic, no true love waiting for him. There was just this- a dull life he dragged his feet through day by day, doing everything society wants of an averagely smart teenage boy. There was nothing special about Louis Tomlinson's life. This was it.

Nonetheless, Louis still dressed up to amuse his little sisters. They always told him he looked like Peter Pan so the eighteen year old bought the costume online and brushed his fringe to the side. He was pretty sure he looked like an idiot, but it was worth it. The smiles on his sisters' faces were gold.

The great thing about Disneyland, he realized, is that no one gave him weird looks for wearing the tights or the funky looking hat. In fact, some of the passing children thought he was actually Peter Pan and asked for pictures and hugs. It was a good thing he loved kids. And he surely didn't mind the attention.

One boy approached halfway through the day and the interaction was quite an amusing one. He was a bit younger than him, cheeks pink and the deepest dimples Louis had ever laid his eyes on. His bright green eyes sparkled and stared in wonder. At one point during the first five minutes of their conversation, Louis was tempted to touch his bouncing curls.

The sixteen year old was adorable. Anyone with two eyes could see that. The Mickey Mouse ears on top of his head only added to the cuteness.

"Are you an employee here?" The boy asked right as he stepped up to him. "I've been watching you for a little while and I wasn't completely sure."

Louis looked up from where he sat alone on the long bench, pink cotton candy stuffed in his cheeks. The awkward silence that followed as he attempted to quickly swallow the cotton candy only made Harry smile wider. Louis wasn't so sure how much more of the kid's sweetness he could handle before he got a cavity- if he didn't get one from the amount of cotton candy he consumed that day.

He shook his head quickly. "No. I'm just a Peter Pan enthusiast for my sisters' amusement."

The teenager sat down next to him without second thought. The Mickey Mouse hat fell slightly sideways making Louis chuckle, endeared even more.

The boy fixed it and blushed in embarrassment. "I liked how you interacted with all of those kids. It's very sweet of you," he spoke, voice low and husky, yet rich as honey. "You make a great Peter."

"Thanks, kid," Louis responded with a small wink. "And you make a great Mickey Mouse!"

Sitting up straighter, the boy giggled, his bum wiggling on the bench. "Thanks. I try."

Louis laughed and nudged him playfully. "What's your name, love?"

"Harry Styles," he declared with wide and sparkling eyes. "And yours?"

"Louis Tomlinson."

"That's a nice name," he spoke, attempting to wink as well and failing, eye only twitching before closing both. A dark blush spread among his face and he looked away instantly. "I'm a shit flirt."

Louis smiled and shrugged. "I'm not much better. To be fair, last time I tried flirting someone, I threw up on their shoes. You're already doing better than me."

A loud, and on the verge of being obnoxious, laugh erupted from the boy's pink lips. "That's terrible. How did you cope?"

"With what? The embarrassment?" The older boy asked in delight- delight to be in the presence of such an angel. "I never talked to him again."

"Oh, good," Harry sighed out in relief, shoulders slumping. "You're gay."

The boy couldn't possibly get more quirky, Louis thinks. The way he draws out his words and laughs and sits is something so unfamiliar and unique, foreign to Louis' eyes. He thought he had seen all the stereotypical teenage boys, tried out all the different types until he gave up because none of them were satisfying enough.

He didn't recognize this stereotype. In fact, he seemed like one of a kind.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Harry asked with a tiny giggle. His cheeks blushed a rosy pink again. He looked down at his lap shyly, an innocent smile dancing among his face. He glowed under the sun that day. "My gaydar is off, I know. But like, you just admitted it and I thought maybe I had a chance. Do I have a chance--"

"Shut up, Harry," he boldly interrupted, shoving his shoulder playfully. "Let's go get some more cotton candy and hang out while I still have time away from my sisters, yeah?"

Turns out time without his sisters lasted all day. His mother decided to be kind, he supposed. Maybe she saw him hanging out with the attractive, curly haired boy. Maybe she thought she'd give him a chance with him knowing how much he hates the idea of falling in love, the same old love every damn time.

The same old love until Harry gave him a different love.

He didn't laugh at all of his jokes to please him. He wasn't too fond of football or the popular songs on the radio at the time. Harry liked Indie music and helping out at local homeless shelters. He liked licorice more than cotton candy and his favorite ride was the Ferris wheel because it didn't make him feel sick.

Even prettier he was under the moonlight, shadows being cast upon his face with every turn of his head. And his eyes sparkled then, just as they did when the sun was out.

One of a kind, he was, like the whole day Louis spent in a place that was more magical than he expected it to be.

Saying goodbye to the park was easy. He'd probably be back in a few years time. It was saying goodbye to Harry Styles that was a struggle. It was a struggle that lasted ten minutes, hugging and exchanging numbers and promising to stay in touch despite the two hour drive distance, Louis and Harry's mothers both nagging at them that it was time to go.

For two weeks after that, they talked all day every day. They would video chat and talk on the phone, rarely texting because it wasn't intimate enough. Two weeks after those two weeks they began dating after Harry insisting several times that Louis should give love a shot.

So he did. For Harry.

He didn't think he would fall in love with Harry. He still didn't think he was capable of loving someone like that, but he surely liked him. He liked his originality and listening to his voice for hours on end and the way his eyes never stopped twinkling like the Disneyland lights. That was enough for now.

In Harry's point of view, this was everything. He found a beautiful boy in a beautiful park and was lucky to have him as his boyfriend. To Louis, however, this was no serious commitment. Sure this was a special boy who he was just as lucky to have, but it was nothing he anticipated to last. Just like all great love stories, this one would end.

What Harry didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

With that in mind, he began hooking up with more people than he could count on both hands at every party he went to. At first it didn't seem like a big deal. It was only some sex that Harry would never know about being two hours away.

Yet at night when they'd video chat, Louis couldn't hold it in, the guilt being too much to bear with. He'd spill what happened at the party right then and there. The first time he admitted it, Harry cried. He forgave him, but still cried more and told him he'd talk later. Louis understood.

The second time, Harry was furious. He yelled at the screen and threw a pillow. If it weren't him Harry was mad at, Louis probably would have found the sight amusing. (Harry was cute when he was mad.) Louis wasn't really sure how to react. He sat in silence and pouted. He could only utter out a few apologies. Harry forgave him again, glad that his boyfriend was honest with him.

The third time, on the other hand, Harry had enough. This is when Louis would accept it was coming to an end.

But he couldn't.

They went two days after that without talking at all. Harry was to mad and hurt to say a word. Louis felt too much guilt to try to.

Every moment of those 48 hours, he was thinking of him. He swore he had never thought of a boy as much as he thought of Harry. This idea scared him, but reassured his mother when he told her this.

He was definitely in love.

"Louis," his mother said one night after dinner, them two the only ones left at the table. "It's okay to fall in love. There's nothing to be afraid of."

"What if I don't want to fall in love with Harry?"

"Now, why wouldn't you want to do that?" She sighed with a shake of his head, light smile on her face. "Didn't you say he was different? That he was the most special boy you had ever met? Why miss out on a boy like that?"

Not to be dramatic, but Louis could have sworn he saw his life flash before his eyes. Everything he thought of love and falling in love had become a thing of the past. Now all he saw was Harry and twinkling lights and music notes among a white sheet.

He was proper whipped.

It didn't take much convincing for him to drive out to him, guitar sitting in the back seat yearning to be played. His hands shook so bad the whole time that he was surprised he was able to safely drive. He was anxious, yet extremely ready to attempt winning back the boy of his dreams.

And the expression on Harry's face when he opened the front door to Louis on his front steps was priceless. A wide smile suited his lips and his eyes sparkled as they did when they first met. Louis was melting into the concrete.

His fingers played the strings as if he were telling a story, lips forming words about being perfect for him. Harry giggled and hugged himself, knowing all of these sweet and romantic- well, as romantic as Louis can get- words were written just for him. It was just another reason to fall in love with the older boy; another reason to love him even more.

"Can we start over?" Louis asked hopefully, eyes desperate and lips twitching into a small at the sight of Harry's. "I know I acted like a complete dick and like I sang, I'm no knight in shining armor like you'll find at Disneyland, but I love you. I really love you."

In one swift movement, Harry moved the guitar to the side and pressed his lips to Louis' gently. It was the sweetest kiss Louis had ever shared with another boy. It was a kiss only Harry was capable of. He knew it wasn't the last.

"Let's start right now."


End file.
